TGIT

Good: we, as in my hunky boyfriend and I, own 2 quirky yet slightly lovable cats.

Bad: they are slightly lovable....

TGIT: this is what happens every time I try to take a photo of Sally. I find it annoying that I have to surprise-photo-attack my cat so that I don't begin a photographic collection of her forehead.

#thisisalongpost

Twitter serves as my one-stop-shop for statuses, complaints, victories, and most recently free stuff [thanks McDonalds, Hooters, and Trident Gum!]  You should follow me – I am pretty witty.

At any rate, college students nationwide have been pouring their college realities into the Twitterverse, and it got me thinking: what would my twitterfeed have looked like during my college days?

I obviously couldn’t stop at thinking, and so, I have constructed my what-would-have-been collegiate twitterfeed, had I had this during my time at St. Lawrence University.

FRESHMAN YEAR:

@kristindacey: just saw the dance team body roll parallel to the grass at matriculation. Welcome to college.  #whenaretryouts

@kristindacey: clearly, it is no longer cool to go to bed at 10:30PM on weeknights. Body clock, please adjust accordingly #butilovesleep

@kristindacey: I live in the dorm so far on the outskirts of campus that it is faster to walk to the supermarket, than it is to eat in the dining hall. #smartfoodfordinner

@kristindacey: I MADE THE DANCE TEAM. #happydancehappydance

@kristindacey: nightly 6:00 dinner date with @maryewood, @bassettbaha, cyn, sar, and sarah…then off to Lee North to try and re-create a rum and grapefruit juice drink made by Cyn’s mama

@kristindacey: I just fell down the Pine Street staircase…again…and why is there sand all over the floor?! #frathouseproblems

@kristindacey: encounter with football boy in the dining hall. Played it cool by gasping and speed walking in the other direction #smoothmove

@kristindacey: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=60og9gwKh1o you are welcome.

@kristindacey: Copem find me inn the bachk bar of the tickr tock!!!!

@kristindacey: I woke up with a door knob from Phi Kap in my purse, so all evidence points to us having a good night? #whereisthegatorade

SOPHMORE YEAR:

@kristindacey: On the ferry en route to SLU. Moving into the block with the S6! #cantwait #sorryneighbors

@kristindacey: Update: our room is the size of a shoe closet…this should be good.

@kristindacey: starting rush…and spend an unhealthy amount of time on my nametag.  Don’t judge me - the nametag could be what gets me in…

@kristindacey: RUSHING GIVES ME EXTREME ANXIETY. Just had to peel myself off my dorm room floor after sobbing to my mom. Am I six? #justturnedinmybidcard

@kristindacey: DELTA DELTA DELTA!!!! BID DAY! #bestdayever #canteventweet #ohmygod

@kristindacey: What? Pledging? What is that?

@kristindacey: The three blind mice are confused why the bodypainted girl opted to do so in the rain. #youarenaked #thepaintisrunning

@kristindacey: can’t I just take whatever classes I want and call it a major? I hate my life #mymajorisbeingawesome

@kristindacey: Boy #1 just walked by in the red pleather pants he had on last night, and Boy #2 is in a light blue high-calf bathrobe.  Not sure my day can get much better, and its 11AM.

@kristindacey: that groaning that we thought was two people having sex in the shower all the time? No, no, just the big lunky football guy that lives down the hall #dontusethatshower #ew

JUNIOR YEAR:

@kristindacey: moving into Delta with Lisa and Sara. WOOP WOOP! #whyisntmarymovinginwithus

@kristindacey: tell me how I’m supposed to breathe with no airrrr, aiirrrr @essceebee http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvABw3j844k

@kristindacey: I have pretty much moved into the fourth floor of Whitman. #sorryimnotsorry

@kristindacey: I’d tweet more, but I can get better internet connection in Southern Africa than I can in this sorority. #1connecting

@kristindacey: #LIBRARYRAT #bringcaffienetothebackleftcornerofthelibrary #stressed

@kristindacey: everyone is going abroad.  If I don’t get into London, I will be drinking alone in my dorm room until next Fall. #pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

@kristindacey: LONDON OR BUST!

@kristindacey: getting on the plane, and I am already homesick? #maybemilkwasabadchoice #iloveamerica

@kristindacey: dear mom, call the dean. #welivewithswingers

@kristindacey: okay, so we don’t know how to turn on the hot water or the lights in the bathroom.  #coldbathbeforenightfall

@kristindacey: Stonehenge? Not so exciting. The spicy burrito for dinner? Pretty exciting.

SENIOR YEAR:

@kristindacey: moving into the suite. Goals for the year: making it out with all appendages and graduating…in that order.

@kristindacey:  Copem find me inn the frnt bar of the tickr tock!!!! #bettedaviseyes

@kristindacey: the moment after you frantically run to the bathroom hungover and exit to find the entire SLU football team sitting on your couch watching ANTM, waiting for a haircut…and judging you.

@kristindacey: @maryewood: come in my room.

@kristindacey: @maryewood: no, you come here.

@kristindacey: @maryewood: no, I am more hungover than you.

@kristindacey: @maryewood: fine. I’m coming.

@kristindacey: Senior Thesis-ing.  Don’t talk to me until end of December. #iminthecomputerlabofthelibrarybringcoffee

@kristindacey: “You taking two dance classes in one semester is like me taking two skiing classes” – Gabe Cohen #sorryimnotsorry #bestacademicsemesterever #deanslistorbust

@kristindacey: Should we talk about what happens if someone gets jello in their eyes during jello wrestling? No? Okay then.  #mom

@kristindacey: you can tell who was invited to Delta formal by whether they have blue glitter all over their pants. Hahahaha #festive #deltalovescrafts

@kristindacey: hungover. don’t talk to me.

@kristindacey: Poll: will anyone notice if I wear the same dress to Delta, Kappa, and Phi Kap formals or will everyone be equally blacked out all three nights?

@kristindacey: Apply for a job? What? What is a job?! #maybeishouldfailadanceclass #neverleaving

@kristindacey: I am sitting at graduation and I just realized I never took off my shower shoes… #myparentswillbeproud

All I'm Ever Gonna Be Is Mean?

Taylor Swift is this decade’s Nickelback.

Bold statement, I know, but just hear my thought process.

The cool thing now is to hate Nickelback.  Right?  I mean, I do.

The odd thing is that at one point I definitely liked Nickelback, and you did too, alone with millions of other Americans. I mean, how else would they have become so popular?  Someone had to have liked them, and don’t tell me you didn’t belt “How you remind me” in the car a couple of times.  Yes, I linked it for old times sake. You’re welcome.

Anywho, currently I dislike Nickelback, but I kind of feel bad about it.  I mean, they didn’t really do anything to me besides gradually annoy me more and more.  This is kind how my relationship with Tay-Tay is currently: tumultuous at best.

I was the first to stick up for Taylor during the Kanye scandal.  No one deserves to be publicly humiliated and bullied on such a large scale.  The girl has serious pipes, and a flawless career.  No one can take that away from her.

Lately, though, I have heard more about Taylor’s love life with Taylor Lautner  John Mayer  Jake Gyllenhaal   Conor Kennedy  Harry Styles than her music [which is ironic since she has written at least one song about each of her failed relationships] – and that annoys me.  If she wants to be a country singer, sing, if she wants to publicly display her failing love life, go on the Bachelor.  Either way, Tay will be in my life [hi, giant Bachelor fan here], but at least I will know how to properly categorize her in my brain.

Don’t get me wrong, I respect Taylor for being able to build an empire off of a teenager with a squeaky clean reputation, but slowly she is outgrowing the very image that made her famous.  At this rate, she has dated more men than Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian combined during the same time period. That is no girl next door, America, unless its on HBO after 11PM.

I know that Taylor is most likely a misunderstood twenty-something just looking for love, but is it sympathy that now sells her records over her twang, yet slightly pop, voice? I like to think not, and I’d like to keep it that way.

At this point, every time I hear a Taylor song, I can’t help but wonder if she will ever, ever, ever get that it might be her, not the men she opts to date.

I am guilt-stricken for disliking Taylor as much as I currently do, but I just can’t help how I feel.

So, as I say to Nickelback, that’s enough Taylor Swift.

Do You Want To Drive?

Ive come to terms with the fact that there is one condition where I feel completely comfortable driving – and that is when I am in the passenger seat.

Unsatisfactory driving condition breakdown, ahem:

When I am in a hurry

My life is a string of activities held together by unrealistic travel times; therefore, a majority of my life is spent trying to get somewhere faster than it is physically possible.  Again, we stumble onto my reoccurring problem with unrealistic expectations, or in this case, commuting realities. My apartment to my parent’s house in 25 minutes? Sure! Work in Framingham to my apartment in Boston in less than 45 minutes at 5:00 on a Friday?  Doable.  Boston to the Martha’s Vineyard ferry in less than two hours? Totally realistic. It is also imminent that I will hit the worst traffic when I am in the biggest hurry [please see When in traffic.]

What happens when I am driving in a hurry:

Oh hey, constant state of anxious panic! I’ve missed you.  Elevated heartrate?  Check.  Compulsively switching lanes to keep from breaking? Check. Yelling at the car in front of me? Check.  Constantly staring at the clock?  Check.  Either listening to music really loudly, or accidentally sitting in complete silence?  Check.  Doing all this while also looking for undercover staties? Check.

When I am in traffic:

I am not a good traffic driver. I absolutely abhor sitting bumper to bumper for no apparent reason other than a minivan with a flat tire in the breakdown lane.  Bostonians are naturally a curious, some say noisy, breed; combine inbred curious personalities with awful driving technique and you’ll get the perfect set up for an additional accident due to staring at said mini-van.  There is nothing to see, fellow drivers.  Less looking and more foot-to-gas-pedal, please.

What happens when I am driving in traffic?

Let the games begin!  As soon as I see brake lights, I almost immediately fly into the lane that is moving the fastest and try to ride on the coattails of the drivers in front of me to bypass traffic.  Once I realize that I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, I then pick a car in another lane and race it…while in traffic. The game changes when I am in a rush, to which I then become that girl who rides the bumper of the car in front of me in hopes of getting them to go faster, you know, because its their fault that I am sitting in traffic with only 15 minutes to get home.

When its raining:

95% of Massachusetts drivers panic and/or completely forget how to drive when any form of moisture falls from the sky.  It is water, people, not molten lava. Regardless, rain means windshield wipers, windshield wipers mean distracted driving, distracted driving means traffic. I hate traffic [please see When in traffic –are we sensing a trend?]

What happens when I am driving in the rain?

Since my windshield wipers now work, a majority of my drive consists of my smiling at said functioning windshield wipers, and giving Gertrude in the Subaru in front of me plenty of space as she breaks for puddles.

When its monsooning:

Rain is one thing, but outright downpours are another. No one likes driving while being unable to see.

What happens when I am driving in a monsoon?

White knuckle driving, hands at ten and two. No talking. Most likely on the verge of tears.

When its snowing:

I am better at driving in the snow than you are, I can dig my car out faster than you, and I can get my car out of almost any snowed-in parking space.  Yes, I am talking to you.  My vast experience comes from father-taught skidding seminars, living in the arctic tundra throughout my collegiate years, and one particularly bad 9 hour drive home from Burlington, Vermont a la blizzard that has left me very confident in my abilities to drive in the snow. I am not worried about my driving in the snow; I am worried about yours.

What happens when I am driving in the snow?

Space. Lots of space happens in the snow. I give you space; you give me space; and we both win when you go into a decent skid into the other lane, and I am able to stop with nailing you. You are very welcome. If the weather is considered blizzarding and requires actual attention, please see When its monsooning.

When its dark:

For those of you who don’t know, I am nearsighted and am in complete denial over the fact that I need to wear my glasses in order to see far distances. Darkness heightens my said blindness, yet I still never have my glasses with me when I need them.  Need me to read an upcoming exit sign?  Not going to happen. 

What happens when I am driving in the dark?

I lock my doors (stranger danger), and start squinting a la Long Duck Dong.  Yes, that was just a reference to “Sixteen Candles.”

When I have acquaintance-level people in the car:

Obviously, I am completely comfortable driving around my friends and family – its when friends-of-friends or acquaintances join that this blonde gets a tad uncomfortable. Am I driving too slow?  Are they judging me for not using my blinker?  Do they think my radio pre-set is sub-par?  Are they concerned that I am a hoarding out of my car? All of these thoughts monopolize my brain while I have unfamiliar company in the car, when the majority of my brain power should be actually spent concentrating on the road. Since passengers are most likely only concerned with getting from Point A to Point B quickly and safely, it becomes a mute point if they are enjoying my music selection if we slam into the back of another car because I was fiddling with the radio.  I digress.

What happens when I am driving with other people in the car?

I am always talking; shocking, I know.  I think it is my way of making sure they are entertained for the entirety of the car ride. What, its not normal wanting people to reflect on their car ride fondly?  Would you mind filling out a post-ride survey outlining your Sass experience?

When its sunny:

You’d think that a sunny day would be an anxiety free experience, but then I remember that beautiful April day in 2010, when I technically totaled Sass…so then there’s that…

At any rate, you can see how most likely shouldn't operate a motor vehicle at all since my attention is almost always focused on something other than the actual road.

(Disclaimer: I am actually a very good driver, I just hate doing it.)

Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen

Just kidding, only confessions from me…a just slightly neurotic twenty-something…not nearly as dramatic, but definitely as hormonal.

1. I spend way too much time thinking about how birds get inside the mall…
2. Hi, my name is Kristin and I am a fan of Wilson Phillips. You are too, you should watch this video.
3. Apparently, every time I get up from my desk, I hum and/or sing whatever song is currently stuck in my head. Unfortunate for those who dislike Wilson Phillips, see #2.
4. I think those who don’t utilize resistance on cardio machines are wimps.
5. Sitting Indian style > sitting any other way.
6. I have double jointed hips and toes. #ballerinaproblems
7. I only buy OPI nail polish…and its because I think the color names are witty, kind of like me.
8. Apparently, I am the only person who despises cantaloupe.
9. I have to actively not pick nail polish off my fingernails.
10. There is nothing more annoying to me than someone who misspells my name.
11. Best feeling ever = newly sharpened pencil. Note: pencil can be both of the lead and make-up variety.
12. According to most bridesmaid dress measurement charts, my chest size is 3 sizes larger than the rest of my body. I keep reminding myself that some women pay to have this problem. Right.
13. I am twenty five years old, and I still say the alphabet when I bend the tab on top of a seltzer can. You do the math.
14. If I need chocolate, it seems as though any type will do…in unrelated news, did you know there is chocolate whipped cream?
15. There is often abnormally loud cracks that come from my joints. I blame 22 years of dance, my mother blames 20 years of purposeful cracking.
16. I notice when people don’t wash their hands in a public bathroom. They are lucky I don’t chase after them with hand sanitizer
17. My dresser is from the infant department of target…and now I get emails weekly about Target’s nursery furniture sales. Just because I lived in a small apartment does not make me an expectant mother, Target.
18. My afternoon snack almost always includes a glass of almond milk. Am I six?
19. If you are busy enough, no one will notice that you haven’t styled your hair or worn anything but Ugg boots to work for the past 3 weeks.
20. It is now unnatural for me to use an informal contraction in any type of writing – informal or not. What – you don’t feel like you’ve committed a crime when you use don’t instead of do not?
    

TGIT

This happened. #irishgirlproblems.

Daylight Savings Directly Caused Me To Re-Live Middle School

[Disclaimer: this is a story I just have to put out into the universe…but I feel like a cyber bully…]

This morning was odd. For one, getting out of bed post time change has been, well, just plain painful.
I am a morning person, but I am no morning person when the clock says its 6AM, but it is really 5AM. That makes my clock a liar, and we all know how I feel about those.
Daylight savings caused me sleep loss.
At any rate, there I was this morning with an unusual craving for a caffeinated beverage, and knowing what my day had in store, I indulged and stopped. That should have been my first clue that something in my day was to go awry…the last time I stopped for coffee “just because” was about ten minutes before the Great Car Accident of 2010. Click here if you haven’t read that gem yet…
Daylight savings caused me sleep loss which caused me to stop for caffeine.
Immediately after walking into Starbucks, I regretted my decision to stop for coffee. The line was far too long for the caffeine headache I was undoubtedly going to get at 3:00PM because I so rarely drink caffeine. I almost turned around, but I decided to stay. As I am haphazardly catching up on some of my Words With Friends games (which has become a chore in and of itself), I hear a “Oh my god! Is that you Kristin Dacey?!”

That is a line that I never like to hear, but that is a line I am down-right afraid to hear if I am a) in my hometown, b) not wearing any make up, or c) in a hurry. Luckily for me, this morning I hit the trifecta.

I turn around with my best fake sorority smile, not knowing who to expect, and there she was: my middle school bully.

I will be the first to admit that middle school sucks. Period. People who say they liked middle school are one of two things:

1. A bold-face liar
2. One of those mean girls who peaked far too early in their social career.

The middle school bully was not popular or pretty…she was just a girl, who didn’t want a new girl to join her social circle…and I had. Because no one actually wants to hear about my middle school baggage, and frankly, I am not ready to be that transparent, we will just go on record as saying that she was mostly successful re: making my life miserable…I mean, it is only healthy to scrub your name off a bathroom wall so many times before it starts to wear you down.

Back to the Starbucks, I am now make-up-less face-to-face with the bully…and we are both in the same snail’s pace line. I was stuck.
Daylight savings caused me sleep loss which caused me to stop for caffeine which led me to see Bully.
I have to say, we had a very nice conversation and I left with a caffeinated beverage, and a little extra oomph in my step.

Why, you might ask? Because I ran into the middle school bully, and she was ugly and unemployed.

My mom will be thrilled to know that her prediction of 15 years ago has come to fruition. Does it make me a bad person that I am not upset that she was right?